Tuesday, September 9, 2014

The Funs on Maximum Pelt Records

The Funs are a duo from Chicago who have their own label, design their own fliers and even recently started a recording/crash space a few hours outside the windy city in the vein of Daytrotter. They've been making it happen for themselves long before I found out about them thanks to Maximum Pelt. I have to remember when I'm home sitting on the couch, listening to their single that they've endured countless days of van trouble only to spend their last few bucks to play in your town and you should count yourself lucky. But they obviously can't help themselves, this is that important to them they they don't want to do anything else. That should be all you need to know.

A-Side's "Concrete" has one hell of a muddy rehearsal space thick sounding riff with all sorts of effects on this growling little riff with drums and a reverb echo filled vocal from Jessee that comes in like an ominous feeling Grass Widow. This track plows ahead with no sense of clarity, wallowing in this uppity buzzsaw grind and the effortless, backwards vocal. Something like Blanche Blanche Blanche she's messing with this melody cracking and rising through the registers into falsetto. Not worried about any sort of perfection. Its pleasantly stress free, not like that beachy weed smoking alien stuff but like a crack swat team has just finished clearing this house. They kicked the door down, made a huge mess, scared the shit out of everyone and then cleared the hell out. In slow motion.

B-Sides "Its strange I'm Here" has another heavy riffs striking in not wasting a second of seven inch time. The drums can barely stand up to Philip's vocal and it's reverb. It's something of a stoner psych sound, everything bleeding into each other like a watercolor painting of a slaughterhouse getting rained on. Two chords back and forth to force the expression to make this compelling. It doesn't feel minimal it's just an oppressive HHHHAAAAAZZZZEEEEE that makes the biggest impression here, A Jesus and Mary Chain record at the wrong speed that overwhelms leaving room for nothing else, You can't think of anything but the fog. I think i'm just getting the band name now. Jokes on me.

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